Worth A Thousand Words
by sugarplumdreams
Summary: Speculative fic that the potion Hook gets Emma to take are his memories bottled up. (Posted to Tumblr February 26, 2014.)


**A/N:** Inspired by the speculation by Tumblr user, hellowherearemypeople, that the potion Hook gets Emma to take are _his_ memories bottled up. Hope you enjoy the feels, this one pretty much killed me dead. *throws confetti* Also this is for Carrie (the-lady-swan), thanks for your flails darling 3 Xx (Posted to Tumblr February 26, 2014)

* * *

**Worth A Thousand Words**

"Let me get this straight…" She holds up the vial of clear liquid and stares skeptically back and forth between it and him. "You expect me to drink _this_? How do I know it's not some kind of trick, or that I'm not just going to pass out so that you can cart me off somewhere and-"

His exasperated sigh cuts her off. "Swan…I swear to you, I would never harm you." His eyes raise to hers and hold intensely. "Look at me, Emma. You _know_ I speak the truth."

How can she _not_ look at him? How can she look anywhere but _him_ when he's staring at her with so much emotion that it backs the breath up into her lungs. Already she feels so overwhelmingly full, like her insides are about to spew out in a tidal wave of tears and feelings and all these other things that don't make any _sense_ and confuse the hell out of her.

He moves closer, his hand tentatively reaching out to close around hers over the glass. "Take a leap of faith, darling. Trust me."

Those words…resonate deep within her, make her brow furrow in thought as she continues to look at him. The pull to him is so strange…it's magnetic in nature almost and for the life of her she simply can't back away. She knows logically she _should_, she doesn't _know_ him for crying out loud, and yet somehow…she _does_. The bright blue of his eyes, his lilting voice, the press of his fingers — the heat beneath them — it's all so _achingly_ _familiar_. The only choice there is, the only option for her, is to stay.

With her heart tight in her chest and anticipation coiling at the bottom of her stomach, she withdraws her hand and uncorks the vial. She takes a breath, drawing comfort and strength from his encouraging gaze — not realizing how easy and natural that was to do, like she'd done it countless times before — then gives him a small toast before tossing back the contents of the little container like a shot. Emma swallows as their eyes meet once more.

Nothing happens. Seconds tick by and she feels as she's always felt. She opens her mouth to speak and then-

_It floods her._

It overwhelms her in a rush of air and light and warmth and _Jesus_. Images flicker in her mind, sound echoing in her head simultaneously and she can't _breathe_.

_"You're not gonna guide us anywhere until you tell us who you really are." Annoyance surges through him as the blade presses to his throat. Insufferable woman._

* * *

_"Love has been all too rare in your life, hasn't it? Have you ever even been in love?"_

_"No, I have never been in love." He watches her carefully, her guarded eyes boring into his, and he doesn't believe her._

* * *

_He studies her as he bandages her cut hand with his mouth, hides his knowing smile as he tightens the scarf around the wound. She intrigues him, this one, how she pulls away when it would be far easier to do the exact opposite. He'd been charming enough, after all._

* * *

_"Who's Milah? In the tattoo?"_

_His expression falls, walls snapping into place at her question. He's unable to look at her, eyes drifting down to the ink on his arm before flickering back to hers. "Someone from long ago."_

_"Where is she?"_

_Too much, too close. He doesn't feel like talking anymore, side-stepping around her to put some distance between them. "She's gone."_

_"Gold," she says._

_He stops in his tracks, the pain of 300 years still stinging in his chest. _

_"Rumplestiltskin."_

_His head angles back in her direction, listening to the understanding suddenly dawn on her. _

_"He took more than your hand from you, didn't he?"_

_He turns back to face her, eye boring into hers._

_"That's why you want to kill him."_

_"For someone who's never been in love, you're quite perceptive, aren't you?" His eyes are challenging on hers, a lick of annoyance shooting down his spine. He hated being an open book himself, hated to show any sort of vulnerability. He was normally more guarded about such things, but as green eyes met his, there was some sort of…mutual comprehension that seemed to pass between them. _

_"Maybe I was once," she finally admits. _

_And there it was. Their gazes hold and the pain he feels mirrors hers and a part of him aches for her because he'd never wish such torment and loss on anyone but at the same time, maybe, just maybe, he doesn't feel so alone anymore._

* * *

_"I don't mean to upset you Emma, but I think we make quite the team." He grins up at her, adrenaline pumping through his system and his smile widens at her as she shakes her head at him. It's an affectionate gesture, or so he likes to think._

* * *

_Her arms come abruptly around him. "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" _

_He smirks. "It's about bloody time." He wondered how long it would take her before she put her hands on him. He had to give her credit, she was impressively resistant against his allure and that was both intriguing and irritating. He'd never met anyone who so blatantly made it a point not to like him. And no, he wasn't attracted to her in the slightest, even if she was a tough lass and she'd make a hell of a pirate._

* * *

_The cold metal closes around his wrist and his heart sinks, his stomach clenching disbelievingly. "What are you doing? What are you doing?" _

_"Hook…I- I can't-"_

_"Emma, look at me." He pleads. "Have I told you a lie?" His voice is quiet, bitter, and betrayal stings resentfully in his chest._

* * *

_"You would have done the same."_

_"Actually, no." And he means it. He was never sure why but he would have kept his word for the stubborn woman with the guarded heart and expressively green eyes…he would have kept his word for her._

* * *

_"Normally, I'd prefer to do other more enjoyable activities with a woman on her back." He hates to admit it, but he rather likes the sight of her panting beneath him. He grins at her like an idiot, enjoying himself far too much. He should still be pissed at her, damn it._

* * *

_He grimaces but somehow manages to smile though the pounding ache of his body. "Hey beautiful," he croaks. And she does look beautiful, a sight for sore eyes — eyes that shouldn't even be looking, especially at her, but she's always been like the sunlight breaking through the clouds after a storm and he's always been in search of Hope. "Here I didn't think you'd notice-" His words cut out on a painful cry as her hand dances over his ribs. They're broken, he can tell by the pain, but instead of pushing her away, he clutches her hand tighter against his torso. _

* * *

_He comes to, eyes falling to a familiar green pair. Well, well, well. He moves, but whether it's towards her or to sit up, he can't be sure. He finds his good arm restrained and his brow raises in amusement. "Again? You're really into this aren't you?" Under different circumstances and without cracked ribs, he might have better enjoyed it._

* * *

_"My hook." He gestures his arm at her. "May I have it back? Or is there another attachment you'd prefer?" He likes getting on her nerves, getting under her skin, watching her brow furrow as her eyes flicker with annoyance. She may be exceptionally good at keep her face neutral, but her eyes have always been expressive. Or maybe he's just always been excellent at reading them. He'll never admit it, but a part of him wonders about that._

* * *

_"I'd pick you." _

_He gives her a sarcastic smile, one that she returns before leaving, and as he watches her walk away, that one little phrase sits heavily on his shoulders. He tries to rattle the restraint on his arm to test how secure they are, all the while attempting to ignore the stinging ache of his battered body. Her words remain, hanging in the air like some profound revelation, and that feels ridiculous._

* * *

_"You ever wonder if this constant pursuit for revenge is the reason we've no one that cares for us? I mean, when all this is over and I know the crocodile is dead, for good and all, I'll have nothing to look forward to. My life will be empty." An image flashes into his mind — sunshine blonde hair and sea-green eyes._

* * *

_"You and I, we understand each other. Look out for yourself and you'll never get hurt, right?"_

_"It worked quite well for me," he grumbles, but he can feel his resolve beginning to crumble as her stubborn gaze holds his. Blasted woman._

_"Yeah, 'til the day that it doesn't. We're doing this. It might be stupid and it might be crazy, but we're doing it. So you can join us and be a part of something, or you can do what you do best and be alone." She holds her hand out, defiant eyes challenging him to do anything but give her back the satchel with the bean in it._

_His head cants at her — such fire and beauty in one person — and he concedes. He had a feeling, as bothersome as it was, that he always would where she was concerned._

* * *

_He holds the bean in his hand, studies it broodingly while he steers the ship out to open water. Once a pirate, always a pirate…but then her pleading voice resounds in his head. 'So you can join us and be a part of something, or you can do what you do best and be alone.' An offer, a second chance, redemption. His chest aches, his heart beating sure and steady for the first time in over 300 years. Ah, bloody buggering hell. He sighs, grits his teeth as his fingers close back over the bean and with a heavy heart, he turns the ship around._

* * *

_"I thought you didn't care about anyone but yourself?"_

_His gaze meets hers as he hands her back the satchel. "Maybe I just needed reminding that I could." _

_He sees the shock on her face, the spark of renewed hope in her eyes as the bean falls onto her hand and his heart stutters in his chest._

* * *

_"Greg Mendel said something funny to me," the Queen tells him. "He said I'm a villain, and that villains don't get happy endings. You believe that?"_

_"I hope not," he answers truthfully. "Or we've wasted our lives." His eyes involuntarily drift towards Emma and they linger longer than they should._

* * *

_She dives into the water and he swears his heart stops, lies painfully still in his chest as her father goes in after her. The seconds tick by and the blood pounding in his veins rings in his ears and makes him dizzy. The rest of it goes by in a blur, but finally she's pulled to the safety of his deck. It's not until she coughs up water and breathes that he realizes he's been holding his own breath. Gods, but she'll be the bloody death of him._

* * *

_"I know there's a lot of history here, and a lot of hate-"_

_"Actually, I quite fancy you from time to time, when you're not yelling at me," he interrupts. He smirks affectionately at her when she shoots him a glare._

* * *

_"So just how did you unlock the map?"_

_"I did what Pan asked."_

_He studies her intently. "Just who are you, Swan?"_

_"Wouldn't you like to know?" Her voice is quiet as she hands him back his flask._

_He takes it from her, feels his walls being blasted down brick by frightening brick. "Perhaps I would." He sees the panic in her eyes, sees her walls snap up where his have crumbled, and his gaze follows her as she leaves._

* * *

_He pokes a hole into the coconut with his hook, gives her a hint of a smile as he hands it to her. It feels like new territory but he finds he likes doing these little things for her, likes taking care of her, and as they sit quietly and comfortably side-by-side, across from her overly-affectionate parents (and no, he's not jealous), sharing yet another drink, he realizes that he's scared out of his mind because he's losing his grip on his heart. _

* * *

_They're standing so close and he can't breathe. His heart hammers wildly in his chest. "I, ah…I just wanted to let you know that I too know what it feels like, to lose hope." _

_"I know what this is..this- you…you know, trying to…bond with me. So save your breath, I'm not in the mood."_

_When she walks away he sighs heavily. He wants nothing more than to comfort her, to soothe away her worries and fears and pain and damned if he doesn't feel like an inexperienced, lovesick pup._

* * *

_"Bugger off. What, you think I'm being selfish? I'm risking my life for all of you, every moment I'm aligned against him-"_

_"Please, you're not here for any nobility. You're here for Emma."_

_The Prince's words take him aback. The truth he tried so desperately to cover up and ignore, slaps him across the face. Bloody buggering fuck. _

* * *

_"What if I were to offer you something very hard to come by? Passage off the island."_

_His expression is bored. "Still not interested."_

_"What if I were to sweeten the deal? You can take someone with you. Emma."_

_His heart jumps at the prospect, his thoughts racing around in his head. No. "Emma would never leave her son."_

_"She did once before," Pan smiles. "And you can be there to pick up the pieces."_

_It's not that he entertains the idea even for a second, it's more that he can start to see it in his head — what a life with her would be like. Endless nights of passion into lazy mornings, quiet smiles and constant bickering, being a team as they save the world side-by-side, trips abroad the Jolly with her lad, dinners with her parents…if he took Pan's deal now, it would be a lie. The life they would build would be a lie. He'd never do that to her, he cared far too much for her._

* * *

_"Please, you couldn't handle it."_

_Her voice is breathy and he inches closer, the spark of a challenge glinting in his eyes. "Perhaps you're the one who couldn't handle it."_

_Their gazes hold for one heartbeat…two…three…and suddenly she's tugging him in — bringing him from the dark and into her light. Her mouth fuses to his and everything inside of him ignites to flames, burning from the inside out. Her lips move fervently over his as her fingers grip at the lapels of his coat and he's completely and utterly lost all of his footing. _

_She breathes life into every part of his darkened soul and it aches — Gods, everything aches and some part of him dimly registers that she was in fact right, he couldn't handle it. His hand cups the back of her head, anchoring himself to her, as he kisses her back and drowns in warmth and light and feelings he shouldn't be feeling and...Emma. Always Emma. He knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that he's lost his heart to her. _

* * *

_From the moment she entered his life, she'd been nothing but one huge complication after another. He was fine on his path to revenge, he was. Then she just had to worm her way in, dig her claws in until he couldn't bloody breathe without her. Fuck. He just had to go and fall in love with her, and as he stands there in the Echo Cave about to give everything up for her, he hates himself, hates the part of him that had to hope and wish and dream because there would be no happy ending for him here. He is wrecked — she's fixed him then broken him then ruined him for anyone else — and he would still do anything for her, move Heaven and Earth for her._

_"My secret is…I never thought I'd be capable of letting go of my first love, of my Milah…to believe that I could find someone else…that is until I met you."_

_The ground shakes beneath them, the first portion of the bridge forming into place across the abyss and as he watches her, his heart shatters into a million pieces._

* * *

_He's irritated at this entire situation. It's completely absurd, but somewhere between the Echo Cave and Dark Hollow his resolve is renewed. He's not going down without a fight — she deserves to be happy, deserves to be fought for and taken care of and damn it, after everything she's been through…loved — completely and endlessly loved. At the end of the day, the choice will still lie with her though, even if he had vowed to win her heart, and as he stands there with her, supporting her and believing in her ability to bring her lad home, he remembers a conversation they had in the room at the hospital once upon a time ago. 'I'd pick you,' she'd told him, and the context might have been under different circumstances, but those words stayed with him. Her family had a knack for mottos, perhaps this one would be theirs._

* * *

_He's thrown against a tree, his body suddenly pinned there, but his only thought is of her as she screams for him. It hurts, everything bloody hurts as the Shadow attempts to rip his away, but his thoughts are still on her and the fear chokes him. He can't protect her. She needs to leave, she needs to leave now. Somehow he manages to fight through the agony and he screams at her to go, to leave, but suddenly he's falling, landing on the cold ground with a loud 'oomph.' He lifts his head, groaning in pain, and catches her eyes flickering to him over the candle she lit with her magic. Relief courses through him._

* * *

_"For a long time, I thought I was never gonna find my family. I was an orphan, like all of you…a lost girl, and I was reminded today that I am not alone, that I have a lot of people that love me, and I never thought that was gonna happen. If that can happen to me, it can happen to you."_

_He watches her over Felix's head and his heart aches — his brilliant, amazing lass. Pride settles over him, warms him._

* * *

_Sometimes he bloody hates his honor. His blasted 'good form' can bugger off. He's miserable without her, would rather gouge his eyes out with his hook before he'd admit it, but damned if he doesn't miss her glaring eyes after a particularly witty innuendo, or her raspy voice, or her rare smiles, or her nearness. He's grumpy and moody and there isn't enough blasted rum in the world for this._

* * *

_"Wait, were you two-"_

_"No!"_

_"Perhaps," he drawls, pressing his tongue into his cheek, but the word is bitter in his mouth. He doesn't care if it's a complete lie, he wants to make her jealous. He doesn't care if it's childish, he wants to make her wonder, make her think about him with someone else the way he's been agonizing over it with her. He wants her to choose him, damn it._

* * *

_"Look who's still a fairy," he grins._

_"And look who's still a pirate. Are you alright?"_

_"Well I lost a hand once," he jokes lightheartedly, eyeing his aching ribs. "This is nothing."_

_"For the record, I know why you risked your life back there and it wasn't for yourself or for revenge. It was for Emma."_

_His heart squeezes in his chest and his gives her quiet smile. It would always be for Emma._

* * *

_"Emma, you have to go," Snow's frantic voice rings out._

_His head snaps towards Emma and dread settles between his shoulders. No. He can't believe this. No._

_"Look around you, you've touched the lives of everyone here."_

_He barely hears anything they've said anymore, his only thought on one thing: Emma. His gaze wavers, eyes flickering down as he realizes what's to come, what he'll have to do. He'll have to let her go and his entire world comes crashing down._

_"We have no choice," Regina reiterates. "You have to go."_

_There's a part of him that's begun to numb while the rest of him wants to rage. He wants nothing more than to argue with the lot of them and try to find another way to fix this. There had to be another way, these idiot hero-types he'd somehow taken up with, they always had another way, damn it. But as he looks at all of their solemn faces, he knows this is their only option. _

* * *

_He's never wanted to fight for something so hard in his entire life…by the Gods, with everything inside of him, he wants to fight to stay with her, but he knows he can't. The curse will tear them apart and there's not a damn thing he can do about it._

_"There's not a day will go by I won't think of you," he tells her, his heart aching and heavy._

_She stares at him, her eyes bright and clear in the daylight and when the corners of her mouth tip up into a smile, a ball of emotion lodges itself into his throat._

_"Good," she answers softly, and his entire world tilts off its axis._

_He loves her, this stubborn, brave, insufferable, beautiful woman…he loves her and he always would._

* * *

_He watches her climb into her little yellow vessel, watches her leave as clouds of green smoke envelop them, and when that smoke clears and they find themselves back from whence they came, he feels nothing but emptiness inside because his heart is with her._

* * *

_He freezes in place, raised hand hesitating from knocking on the door of her presumed home. His heart hammers wildly in his chest and for a brief moment he's afraid — afraid that it won't be her. Gods, what if it's not her?_

_He gulps, presses his lips together and tries to find the courage to knock. He thinks of her — the curves of her face, every fleck of gold in her eyes and it calms him, soothes him, and eventually...it's enough. Before he waste anymore time, his fist pounds heavily on the door._

_The knob rattles on the other side and he stills, his stomach clenching in anticipation, but when the barrier swings open and his blue eyes meet the familiar green of hers, he can breathe again. __Gods, finally._

_"Swan," he whispers, lips curving up. "At last." _

Emma comes to on a gasping breath, stars dancing along the edges of her vision. She's dizzy and overwhelmed and o_h God_. _Oh God, oh God. _Her eyes lift to meet his and she can see the worry on his face, but she can also see the hope, and _oh God._ It's too much, it's far too much and before she knows it, tears are building behind her eyes as her emotions threaten to spill over.

"Hook," she chokes out.

"Emma," replies, and judging by the expression on his face, he knows that she remembers. "Thank the Gods," he smiles, relieved.

She's in his arms before she can draw her next breath, grasping onto him and anchoring herself to him as she had so often done. "Oh God," she murmurs, still in shock. "Oh my God, Killian."

"Shhh, it's alright, love. You're alright…I've got you." His embrace around her tightens and she can feel the press of his face against her neck. "Now you know."

She remembers, she remembers everything - memories worth a thousand words and a sob hitches in her throat. She's not sure if she's the one shaking or if it's him, all she knows is that she is Emma Swan, daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, Princess, Lost Girl, Savior…and she is loved…so, so loved.

"Don't let go," she begs. "Please, don't let go."

"Never," he vows. "I promise Swan, never."

_Fin_


End file.
